Crash Into Me
by luxieddb
Summary: Bella found a second family in the Cullens. Perfect soon proves too good to be true as Bella realizes that the family has a dangerous secret. And that she has a violent attraction for the most dangerous Cullen. AH
1. Prologue

The question skewered the room, penetrating the drawing room with a force contradictory to its hushed and seemingly ambivalent delivery. Had I been a fly on the wall, the wide eyes and collective gasp of the five people around me might have seemed humorous caricature versions of themselves, simultaneously acting with exaggerated shock.

Unfortunately, I was not a fly on the wall. Fortune, fickle bitch that she is, appeared to have deserted me all together as every eye in the room turned to me, silent pressure for an explanation that they most assuredly and inevitably would not accept. The change in the air was perceptible as tension settled around the room, the weight of the accusation heavy on my shoulders.

What is it they always say? Tension you could cut with a knife? Whatever pansy ass delivered that foolishly optimistic axiom was delusional. I fought back a nervous chuckle as the thought of lifting an arm to cut anything with a knife bordered on the impossible considering the giant elephant in the room had not only been identified, but also persuaded to park its giant ass on my chest. The weight of the unspoken judgment constricted against my throat and the intensity of the situation became a physical burden, pressing me further into the designer print of the plush couch I sat on as my mind futilely willed my body to disappear.

I could not move.

I could barely breathe.

I was suffocating – struggling under the pressure of a single question and the ramifications of the answer.

Absolutely no one in this room would escape the consequences of this scrutiny and the faces around me suggested that each one knew already, on some level, that there would be no going back. The good doctor Cullen sat stiffly on the sofa across from me, as if the straightness of his spine might enforce some righteous moral counterbalance to my suggested sordid offense. Esme, predictably, curled submissively into the shelter of her husband, one hand fisted against her mouth and tears already welling at the inevitable rift within her family. Either that or she'd just noticed the blush stripe in her painstakingly chosen drapery didn't quite match the stitching of her area rug as perfectly as she'd originally thought. I really couldn't be sure.

They'd had such high hopes for this reunion. After two years of exile, the night's festivities had been intended as my re-induction into the Cullen family fold. The years apart had steeled my need for the tight knit bonds of this clan, and yet I couldn't ignore the sinking dread in my stomach – proof that I would feel the loss of this family from my life as acutely as the first time.

Emmet braced his mountainous frame casually against the fireplace mantle. The image of my brother bear allowed for momentary relief as my breathing deepened and lengthened with the unconditional acceptance un-obscured in his blue eyes by an understandable curiosity and an ever present mischievousness. Rosalie graced his side, a knowing look as well as an unexpectedly supportive nod boosting me further against the oppressive tension.

Unable to ignore the nagging stare to my right, my focus shifted to a less than friendly face - Alice. Fucking. Brandon. The poorly concealed hatred seething in her abnormally large eyes made her appear more a demonic fairy bitch and less the precious pixie persona she took such care to maintain. I couldn't help the smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth any more than she could refrain from being a manipulative wolf in designer wool.

How many times had I heard it? – Alice _knows_ things.

Ha! The self proclaimed crystal ball knows nothing beyond her cunning manipulations and calculated performances. My mind strayed quite boastfully to that which Alice doesn't know. Even she couldn't predict the outcome of this evening and I had to smile at how intensely she must be reeling. Alice averted her eyes to the figure next to her, drawing my attention with her movement to settle on the face of her fiancé.

Jasper. I followed the rigid tension plaguing his well formed shoulders, past the firm set of his jaw and angry slant of his mouth to eyes that spoke a language known only by me. I expected some small acknowledgement – an insignificant gesture of recognition to ease this inevitable judgment day. Instead, the intensity of anger, regret, and betrayal rolled off of him, palpable in the air, and I was certain everyone in the room could feel it.

I could feel it. I could _feel_ him.

Then again, I always could. Jasper's emotions had always resonated deep within me, so much so that I was often left wondering if they were my own and not my sixth sense for the eldest Cullen brother. There was no doubt now, however, as to the origin of the feelings bombarding my core. Jasper _hated_. What I couldn't be sure, but the steely unmoved cold gray of eyes I'd seen as turbulent as the sea indicated that he most likely hated me.

I closed my eyes; fragments of memories long since stored away assaulting my already crumbling resolve.

Shadow and sun on naked flesh.

Honey curls like silk between my fingers.

A whispered drawl – smooth and low.

And now? I didn't recognize the man beside me at all. The familiar ache crept up from within me and for a moment I considered giving in to my inner desolation, remnants of a love lost. But I'd felt the darkness of abandonment by this family once before. I'd built myself back up from dead after this _family_ severed their loyalty.

Fuck doing that again.

Insecurities hardened to resolve and when I turned to face Edward, he couldn't miss the challenge of my stare. He pursed his lips and drug a well manicured hand through copper locks, his head slightly cocked in appraisal and I knew that he hadn't misinterpreted.

He'd expected the weakling he'd left behind. He'd expected me to roll over and beg for my place within the security of his family. They'd expected to have control.

And now he knows that I don't give a shit what they expected.

My eyebrow rose as barley concealed anger flashed across his face and he asked louder, "Bella. How long have you been fucking my brother?"


	2. Chapter 1

_Here comes the sun. Here comes the sun, and I say it's all…_

My fist connected with the alarm clock before the Beatles could finish that ridiculous sentiment. When I'd programmed the song to wake last night, the goal had been warm thoughts. I'd hoped that the sunny optimism of the lyrics would distract me from the reality of the situation: there is no fucking sun.

Period.

Not in Forks, anyway.

With an eye to the bleak grey sky filling the view from my second story window, I couldn't contain the self pitying sigh as my sentiments were confirmed. There was no sunlight – bright and warm – making shadows dance across my floorboards. There was only grey, as if the light had been filtered down through foggy glass, painfully muted and thickened with near constant precipitation. Having lived here my entire life, cutting chills and dense moisture were constant companions despite the fact that I yearned to lift my face to the sky feel warmth in return.

A glance at the clock confirmed the inevitable: senior year would start with or without the sun. I, unfortunately, would as well. Making quick work of the blankets, I flung my feet over the side of the mattress and stood to begin the day. The steps that took me across the room and into the hall were well rehearsed, as was the sharp double knock on the door directly across from my own.

"Charlie," I called through the door, "You up?" A few moments later, the door opened to reveal my father, groggy on the other side but already tucking the shirt of his Sheriff's uniform into navy police issued pants. He mumbled a good morning and proceeded past me to the stairs and down to the kitchen. I followed his retreating form with my eyes and tried, as I did every morning, to not take it personally. He'd be much more receptive after downing the two beers needed to start the day and I slowed my own trek to the kitchen to allow him the seconds needed to secure his relief. It'd been that way since as long as I could remember…since my mother left.

Descending the last stair, I took in Charlie, standing at the open refrigerator, face upturned to the can in his hand. I looked and tried to imagine the young man he must have been. In his office at the station, a Washington State Academy portrait hanging crookedly next to his diploma suggested that Charlie had been a happy, carefree man when Renee Phoenix blew into town. I'd seen the mischievous glint in the eye of that photo and known that my father had once loved life. And he'd loved my mother. A habitual nomad, she stepped off the bus, stumbled upon Charlie and instantly hooked him with her carefree spirit. A journey to find herself, she said. Charlie decided that journey should end with him. I arrived on the scene ten months later and she was out the door in the middle of the night, without a word, three months after that.

Love you too, Mom.

So I'd never met the man with the twinkling eyes. No, the quick consumption ensured that the eyes that met mine across the kitchen were glossy and hard, as they had been for the past seventeen years.

"School starts today," he stated into the silent kitchen.

I nodded.

"Don't be late."

I nodded again, trying not to scoff as he turned to pour his coffee, not forgetting the additional Crown Royal from a cabinet above the stove. I chose not to mention that the only reason he was getting to work on time was because I'd woken him up. I also chose not to mention that department policy might have issues with his constant insobriety as he strapped his gun around his waist. Instead, I followed him to the door and watched him walk to the cruiser parked haphazardly in the driveway.

He opened the door and turned back to my position behind the screen door. "The Cullen dinner is tonight. Don't forget." How could I forget? The entire town had been buzzing with news of renowned surgeon Carlisle Cullen and the relocation of his family to Forks. And in some gesture of neighborly hospitality, the good doctor and his wife had organized a dinner party for select members of the community and their children.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Charlie didn't notice my grimace because he continued, "And I told Dr. Cullen you'd look out for his boys." With that, he was in the car and out the driveway. Look out for his boys? What the hell does that mean? I silently cursed whatever Charlie had volunteered me for this time and walked back in the house, screen door slamming behind me.

Half an hour later, my pickup and I rumbled nosily through the morning drizzle toward Forks High. It hadn't taken me long to throw on a pair of jeans, remnants of paint speckled across the faded denim, a vintage band tee, and well worn plum purple All-Stars. Even less time was spent pulling my hair into messy knot on top of my head before I was out the door with my messenger bag and sketchpad in hand.

Now in the warm comfort of the cab, I sent a silent thanks to Jake for getting the truck running in time for the new semester. The neat little joint nestled between the fingers of my right hand was also courtesy of Jacob Black. Both Jake and I had one thing in common: mothers who didn't give a shit about us. Charlie and Jake's father Billy had bonded over a mutual love for fishing and beer as well as equal disinterest for child rearing. So Jake and I were left to our own devices. And neither father noticed when Jake started hanging out at the Rez, a garage near First Beach, slinging green from the front lobby. Nor did they notice when I'd taken to self-medicating.

I puffed, inhaling until my lungs burned and held my breath until my head swam. The coughing fit that followed ensured an immediate head change and I felt a little more prepared to face what was bound to be a miserable day. Not that I didn't like school. I did exceptionally well for a closet stoner. The student body, however, had me nursing a few more hits from the joint as I pulled into the parking lot of the high school, Otis Redding crooning from my speakers from a dock on the bay.

I parked in my usual spot, in the furthest corner, next to a lone picnic table. My truck blocked the table from vision and I exploited that fact when I lit my camel filter, relishing in yet another Jake inspired vice. I took a long drag and noted that the students of Forks High were already circling across the lot, no doubt busy with gossip about the Cullen brothers.

No doubt about it.

It's going to be a miserable fucking day.

Despite my best efforts, I was only able to avoid the Cullen phenomenon up until first period. Word of the brothers took precedent over the trigonometry syllabus. After advanced English and biology, I had unwillingly learned that the students in question, Edward and Emmett, were currently taking a tour of the campus and would not be in classes until after lunch. Fortunately, my lunch was followed by two blissful periods in the art room. My chances of having to "look out" for the infamous pair just decreased exponentially.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of lunch and I gathered my things, waiting until everyone had cleared to exit and proceed past the cafeteria to my picnic table. After hitting the roach I'd saved earlier, I pulled a dr pepper and a handful of strawberry twizzlers from my bag before settling in for a solitary meal. I knew I was an outsider. I preferred it that way. I'd been on my own my entire life – while class Queens Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory were having princess themed sleepovers and taking ballet lessons, I was learning how to maintain the household of my drunken father.

Pony rides? Tea parties?

Try cooking, and cleaning, and dragging Charlie to bed when he couldn't make it up the stairs. Needless to say, I learned early on to only depend on myself. As a result, I hardened myself against the vulnerability of needing another person and with the exception of Jake, had maintained isolation from everyone, courtesy of biting sarcasm and an unmatched death glare.

People learned to stay away. And I did my best to avoid drawing attention. Staying to the background and keeping quiet. Foolishly wishing to be anywhere else – anywhere warmer. The trickle of rain beginning to leak from the sky mocked my thoughts.

"ISABELLA SWAN!"

My mental musings ceased quickly at hearing my full name bellowed from across the lot. I rose slowly, until I could peek over the bed of my truck to see a rather intimidating form headed in my direction. My name was repeated twice more before I could round the front bumper. On closer inspection, the approaching figure was a male about my age. Have you ever heard the phrase built like an ox? Totally makes sense now. Broad shoulder and an impossibly wide chest tapered into a trim narrow waist and long muscled legs as his jog slowed a few feet from me. Lifting my chin to meet his eyes, I estimated he stood at least a foot over my own 5'4 frame. The intruder's bulk was immediately undermined with the flash of dimpled grin – blue eyes wrinkled with mirth – and the shake of short brown curls. I battled between amusement and annoyance over whatever the fuck he was so happy about.

"Isabella Swan alright. Charlie said just look for the girl blushing from face to floor."

Annoyance won out. Quickly.

My dad must've been in "social drunk" mode when he'd betrayed that tidbit of information. And I knew my skin blushed crimson because I could feel it heated and tingling just under the surface. It had been that way since hearing my name so forcefully.

"Bella," I corrected through clenched teeth, "who the fuck are you?"

He let out a single bark of laughter – eyes shining. "Hells Bells!" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "I like 'em feisty."

My eyebrow rose. "That's unfortunate," I countered, "I hear steroid abuse decreases penis size."

The laughter didn't stop this time as he drug me to him, tucking my body under the weight of an arm. "I'm Emmett," he announced as though that had been what I was worried about and not this oafish invasion of my personal space. By a stranger. As if sensing the anger bubbling to the surface, he lowered his head and whispered, "Walk with me, Suzy Lee."

I instantly recognized the line. Ceasing to struggle against his side, I turned my face up to look at him. And I couldn't help it, not with him smiling so bashfully, obviously nervous for my response. The words tumbled from my mouth before I could remind myself that my goal was – had always been – to remain solitary and detached.

"And you can tell that we're going to be friends?" Deep dimples reappeared with his answering grin, stretched wide across his face and despite years of practice shutting people out, I didn't stand a chance. Not when the face looking back at me was so…genuine?

Unsettled by my crumbling defenses, I shook his arm from my shoulder violently. The _closeness_ made me uncomfortable. I needed distance. I needed space. I needed to tell him that he could fucking think again because I didn't need a friend.

And I would have.

But I never got the chance. The stirrings of my verbal tirade were preempted when a voice behind me betrayed the presence of yet another intruder upon my carefully maintained solitude.

"Emmett. We're supposed to make a good impression on Isabella." The voice was melodic and commanding. The calm rhythm dissolved my anger on an exhaled breath, as I turned, exhausted, to meet Edward Cullen.

For a moment, all I could see were green eyes. Twin pools of emerald captivated my awareness and it was hard to break my hypnotized stare from the alluring dazzle and I resented the effort it took to note the rest of his appearance. As tall as his brother, Edward was graceful limbs draped with sinewy muscles and immaculately maintained in designer jeans and a pressed button down. Even the dishevelment of his brazen auburn hair seemed meticulously planned. His relaxed posture as he extended his hand and offered his name with a smile disclosed confidence and ease.

Anyone could see….Edward Cullen simply sparkled.

The difference was I didn't give a fuck. Product of a broken home, asshole. Girls like me have trust issues – and I didn't trust Edwards's façade of perfection. Especially when he looked at me so expectantly, as if waiting for my inevitable submission to his well-practiced charm. It was too much – he was too much.

I couldn't help it.

I burst out laughing; the surreal ness of the situation resounding deep and bringing tears to my eyes. It was all so absurd. I did note, with some satisfaction, that Edward's previous mask of confidence faltered into one of confusion.

That set off a new round of giggles and I heard Emmett join in behind me upon seeing his brother's discomfort. The bell signaling the end of lunch brought me to my senses. As if I'd been doused with cold water, I remembered the awkwardness of my present situation. Without a word, I gathered my bag and sketchpad and jogged away from the Cullen brothers, too quickly for them to protest. And as I made my way to the sanctuary of the art room, I knew the comfort of my isolation would be short lived.

I didn't have to look out for the Cullen boys. They found me.

And me? I found a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that said things would never be the same again.

…

AN: Obviously, if I owned it, I wouldn't be writing about it here.

Also, I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a review whore. Want me to put out? Click the damn button.


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